The surface of the lake sparkled as the sun rose above the stand of scrub pines on the southeastern shore, sweeping away the slim wisps of fog and spawning a steamy last Saturday of summer.
Clutching her cup of coffee, Cassie clambered up the spiral staircase to the loft of the lakeside cabin. She and Kevin had remodeled and expanded the structure after inheriting it from her grandmother Julia, but for whatever reason had never completely cleared out all of her Mamó’s personal effects. Dust motes danced in the morning light as she pulled the battered trunk out from under the eaves to the center of the floor beneath the window. With a sigh, she popped the latch, eased the lid open, and caught a musty whiff as she peered inside. Books, tchotchkes, a small knit blanket, some records…
On one side, a stack of 7-inch singles was snuggled up against a few 10-inch albums. Cassie pulled the 45s out and flipped through them.
“Erroll Garner Trio, Misty.”
Flip.
“Johnny Mathis, Misty. Nice white pants there, buddy.”
Flip.
“Sarah Vaughan, Broken Hearted Melody and Misty.”
Cassie snorted and shook her head as she set the singles aside. “I’m detecting a pattern here…” She pulled out the first album for inspection, handling its frayed cardboard corners with care.
“Ella Fitzgerald, Misty Blue.” She grabbed the next one, not so carefully this time.
“Jackie Gleason presents Tawny. Okay, weird.” She lifted out the next one.
“Jackie Gleason presents Music To Make You Misty. That’s more like it.”
As she reached for the next record by Wilma Burgess, her fingers caught on something finer than dust. She pinched gently and drew it free—a long strand of red hair, curled and glinting faintly in the sunlight. Cassie blinked, then laid it down gently.
“Well, Mamó,” she murmured, brushing a thumb across her cheek, “now I’m getting misty-eyed.”
“Cass, are you upstairs?” Kevin called from below.
“Yes, Kev,” she sniffled before composing herself. “I’m finally going through that trunk of my grandmother’s things.”
“Going through the tickle trunk, eh?”
“The what?”
“Never mind; it’s a Canadian thing. Did you eat anything? I can scramble some eggs.”
“That’d be great, thanks.”
Cassie quickly scanned the remaining records, then stopped short when she noticed a picture postcard that had slipped down between them. Greetings From Niagara Falls. She turned it over and caught the knowing gaze of Benjamin Franklin, who adorned the green one-cent stamp, before reading the message.
Mrs. Julia Campbell
345 P——— Street
New Haven, Conn.
Feb. 10, 1931
Dearest Julia,
Congratulations on the birth of your daughter!
You’ll forever be my Maid of the Mist.
Love always,
Harvey D.
“Jiminy Crickets!” Cassie exploded. “He wrote that in a postcard, to a married woman who just became a mother? This guy had some nerve!” Taking stock of the evidence before her, though, she relented. “Well, Mamó, or Misty, or whatever you’re calling yourself, it seems like you two sure had a thing for each other. I hope it made you happy.”
Beneath a stack of small books, Cassie discovered a leatherbound diary embossed with the initials J.C.
“I’d better get comfortable,” she sighed, removing the knit blanket from the trunk and sitting on it. “This could be a long read.”
The diary opened to where a photograph had been tucked inside. Inside its white border, a black and white trio sat on a pale colored couch in front of a richly wood-paneled wall. A man with white hair and beard, perhaps 55 years old, was positively beaming at the young woman seated next to him. She was slim and graceful, wearing a narrow headband in her long, flowing hair, and a dress with thin shoulder straps and a deep neckline that revealed her firm breasts. Her delicate hands lay in her lap and her back was partly turned to the younger man on her left, who had a slight scowl on his otherwise handsome face. She flipped over the photo, and read Harvey D with Julia & Lloyd C, May 1930 scrawled in pencil.
“Oh my goodness,” Cassie breathed, studying the image more closely. “Mamó, you’re certainly giving Grampa Lloyd the cold shoulder, aren’t you? ...Are you and Harvey holding hands?”
Grandma Julia didn’t even blink.
“So this is the infamous Harvey D,” Cassie muttered to herself, tapping the photo against her knee, then turned her attention back to the diary itself.
———
May 10, 1930
We entertained Harvey Davenport this evening. I had suggested to Lloyd that he invite him to Yale to present a guest lecture on the economic outlook for the 1930s, and Lloyd thought it a wonderful idea. I gently pulled his strings and got him to schedule it for this particular weekend; little did either of them suspect my ulterior motive!
After dinner, while Lloyd was mixing drinks, I made an excuse to show our guest something in the hallway. Taking him aside, I began laying out my plan. “Mr. D, you gotta help me. Lloyd and I have been trying to have a baby for the past year, but nothing doing so far.”
He was confused for a minute. “I’m not sure how I can help.” Then the light dawned. “Julia, you don’t mean—”
“I do mean,” I corrected him with a saucy smile. “It was exactly four years ago tonight when we fooled around on that green couch and then you fucked my virgin pussy.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve been keeping track of my monthlies. I want you to fuck me tonight and plant your seed deep inside me. I want you to give me a baby, Mr. D.”
“Jiminy Crickets!” Cassie hissed.
Mr. D shot a hurried glance at the doorway to the parlor where Lloyd stood at the drinks cart with his back to us. “And Lloyd is on board with this?”
“No, of course not, you ninny! He has no idea. I orchestrated this whole visit.”
“By golly.”
“You’re always good for eight or nine shots when you cum, right, Mr. D?”
“Maybe a dozen, if I’m properly motivated,” he chuckled, mildly pleased with himself.
“Okay, then when you start, I want you to shoot a good half dozen spurts in my pussy. Then you can pull out and drop the rest on my tummy. Lloyd won’t know the difference.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know…”
“Look, Mr. D, do you wanna fuck me or not?”
“Of course I do, you know that.”
“You wanna fuck my tight redheaded pussy, without a sheath separating us?”
He almost had an aneurysm when I said that, but he managed to nod his head.
“Then I need you to do this for me. I promise that I will take this secret to my grave. And I’ll make sure Lloyd shoots inside me too, so we’ll never actually know whose baby it is.”
I took him by the hand and led him back into the parlor. Lloyd handed each of us a whiskey and soda. I slammed my drink down my throat and summoned up my liquid courage.
“Remember our trip to Saratoga in ‘26, when you two fellas teamed up on me?”
Lloyd choked on his drink. “Y-Yes,” he sputtered. “It was the Friday before Labor Day weekend.”
Cassie snorted. “And I thought I was the queen slut of Labor Day weekend!” She paused in thought. “Although I did those three guys on Thursday, not Friday. What do you think, Mamó, is Thursday close enough to count as the weekend?”
“But that’s all behind us now,” Lloyd continued. “When we got married, we agreed—”
“Now hold on, Lloyd,” I interrupted. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Before we were married, you and Mr. D teamed up on Mrs. D a couple of times. In fact, the first time was on this very couch, isn’t that right?”
Lloyd, startled, nodded sheepishly. “Yes, I suppose it was. But I swear, when the Davenports offered us their living room set when we moved into our own place, I never thought twice—”
“You even fucked Mrs. D during her Fourth of July sex pageant while Mr. D was out of town, didn’t you, Lloyd? In her mouth, her pussy, and her ass!”
“Well, I fucked her in the ass before the pussy, if you want to get technical,” Lloyd corrected me after downing his whiskey. “With your spit all over my dick, if you recall,” he sneered.
“How could I forget?” I giggled. “That was the first time we met, when I was preparing all of you men before you went onstage.”
Cassie couldn’t believe what she was reading; apparently her grandmother had a brief career as a fluffer when she was nineteen?
“So now you and I are married, Lloyd, but so what? You’re gonna let a little thing like that stop us?” My voice hardened, and I noticed that his cock was hardening as well. “I wanna feel your hot, hard cock pounding my pussy while Mr. D’s fat, filthy cock fills my mouth. Then I wanna kiss you with my disgusting cocksucking breath, and then I wanna taste my pussy on your cock.”
“Yeah?” Lloyd whispered, his eyes wide.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “Then Mr. D can fuck my sloppy pussy and pull out and shoot his cum on me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, and then you’ll need to clean it up. I know you like that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and then if that gets you hard again…”
“Yeah?”
“...maybe you can be the first guy to ever fuck me in the ass.”
“Yeah!” Lloyd fairly shouted.
“Everybody strip,” I commanded. As the boys set to work unbuttoning their clothes, I slowly slipped out of my wrap dress and peeled off my stockings. Once I was completely naked, I picked up a glass of white wine left over from dinner, then laid back on the couch. Tilting it over my torso, I let the wine dribble down onto my tits and tummy. “Who’s thirsty?”
Cassie nearly fainted.
I think the guys nearly fainted, but to their credit, they recovered quickly. Lloyd hurried over and began lapping at my tits while Mr. D buried his nose in my crotch.
“Mmm, it smells like a sharpened pencil, same as always,” he complimented me before diving in with his tongue.
Cassie stared bug-eyed. “That’s a compliment?”
With Lloyd working my tits and Mr. D working my clit, it wasn’t long before I had a shaking, shuddering orgasm, the likes of which I hadn’t experienced in some time. I rolled off the couch onto the carpet, then got on all fours.
“Now fuck me, Lloyd, while I suck Mr. D’s cock,” I growled. They both scrambled into position, kneeling fore and aft, then thrust into me simultaneously. Lloyd banged my beaver from behind, while Mr. D fucked my face in front. I reached one hand down to rub my clit, and within minutes I was having another orgasm, shaking so hard that Mr. D had to grab my shoulders to keep me from collapsing.
Lloyd grabbed my ass with both hands and bellowed like a rutting elk before pumping a huge load of his hot, slippery cum inside me. Pushing Mr. D away, I rolled over onto my back to keep it from leaking out. Mr. D moved down between my legs and placed his mouth over my pussy, blocking the cum that was threatening to escape and actively pushing it back inside with his tongue.
“Lloyd,” I asked sweetly, “Would you be a dear and get a towel we can lay on the couch?”
As Lloyd wandered off, Mr. D took my hips in his hands and lifted them up; holding my ass in the air, he continued eating my pussy as Lloyd’s cum drained towards my uterus.
“Nice job, Mr. D, using gravity to your advantage!” Cassie the science teacher congratulated him. “Mamó, you shouldn’t have rolled onto your back. Rookie mistake.”
Lloyd returned and laid the towel down, then stood nearby, lazily stroking his limp dick. Mr. D released me and I hopped onto the couch and lay back so he could enter me. Lloyd cleared his throat nervously as he watched Mr. D prepare to slide his stiff, mature cock into my unprotected pussy. “Harvey, you’ll be sure to pull out?”
I fibbed, “Of course he will, silly!”
Mr. D played along. “Yes, Lloyd, of course I’ll pull out.” Which was technically true—he was going to pull out, he just didn’t say when he was going to pull out.
Mr. D pressed the head of his cock against my entrance and then with a groan slid his full length inside my tight pussy. Once Mr. D and I established a rhythm, Lloyd bent down with his face above mine.
“Whadda you want?” I said with a twinkle in my eye, pretending to be annoyed with him.
“Kiss me, you cocksucking whore,” he demanded before taking my head in his hands and mauling my mouth with his, to the beat of Mr. D’s cock humping my hot cunt.
I pulled away. “If I’m such a cocksucking whore, why am I not sucking any cock?” Taking his cue, Lloyd jammed his dick in my face and I devoured it, tasting his cock and my pussy.
I felt Mr. D’s thrusts becoming more urgent, and I knew he was close. I distracted Lloyd by swirling my tongue all around the head of his cock, and he groaned and closed his eyes. Perfect.
Mr. D fired his first shot inside me, and I swear I felt it hit me in the ribs. He continued shooting his potent sperm up into my womb; I felt his cock pulse at least five more times before he clamped his hand around his dick and pulled out.
“Don’t cum inside me, Mr. D!” I insisted, and he let go of his dick and fired what was purported to be his first shot onto my chest, directly between my tits. Waving his cock back and forth, he hit each tit with a direct shot before dribbling a couple of shorter spurts onto my stomach.
“I’m such a dirty whore!” I moaned. “Somebody clean me up!”
Both of them began licking the scalding hot cum off my tits and tummy.
“I’m such a dirty whore!” I repeated, more softly this time. “Feed me that hot fucking cum.”
My husband and my first love took turns kissing me, dripping loads of cum into my greedy mouth, until I was all cleaned up, more or less.
Next it was Mr. D’s turn; he stood up and I took his softening cock in my mouth, cleaning off his cum and my own juices. Lloyd began stroking his own cock, then headed for the door. “Time to pay the piper, doll. I’ll go get the olive oil.”
When Lloyd had left the room, I rolled onto my stomach and bent my knees, lifting my ass in the air to help Mr. D’s secret spermload find and fertilize my egg.
Cassie smiled. “There you go, Mamó.”
“Hey Mr. D,” I asked him while shaking my rear, “do you ever dine where the sun doesn’t shine?”
“Every chance I can get!” he laughed as he knelt on the couch behind me, burying his face between my cheeks and tonguing my puckered asshole.
When Lloyd returned, Mr. D moved aside and let my husband coat my crack with oil, then they both alternated sliding a finger inside my virgin ass. After a couple of minutes, I suggested that they stop alternating.
“You want two fingers at the same time?”
“Well, yeah, you numbskulls,” I sighed into the couch cushion. “We’ve gotta fit Lloyd’s dick in there, don’t we?”
When I felt sufficiently prepared, Lloyd began rubbing the head of his cock against my sphincter and slowly pressing it inside.
“Ooh, yes, I like that,” I encouraged him, then raised myself up and rested my elbows on the seat of the couch before turning to Mr. D. “I’ll suck your cock again if you can get hard.”
Mr. D sprang onto the couch in front of me—who knew that old fella was so spry?—with his stiffening pecker waving in my face. As Lloyd finished easing his cock into my back door, I took Mr. D’s cock in my mouth and let them both have their way with me.
Lloyd’s thick dick stretched my asshole deliciously, and he began thrusting slowly.
I popped Mr. D’s cock out of my mouth and hissed over my shoulder, “Are you fucking my tight ass, baby? Does that feel good?”
Lloyd was speechless, but he began thrusting faster and deeper.
“Yeah, fuck my ass!” I growled while stroking Mr. D’s dick with my hand and licking the head. “Fuck my ass and shoot your fucking cum inside while I suck this cock!” Then I plunged my mouth down; the time for talking was over.
“Oh, baby!” Lloyd yelled with a final lunge as he emptied his balls into my backside, dumping another hot load of cum inside me. The first load I’ve ever taken in my ass, but hopefully not the last!
“Oh, Misty!” Harvey groaned a moment later as he got ready to shoot his load into my mouth. But I was too fast for him! I leaned forward and squashed his dick between my sticky tits, and he erupted onto my neck and chin. I quickly turned around, and Mr. D didn’t hesitate for one second; he spread my cheeks and buried his tongue in my ass, eating Lloyd’s cum as it leaked out. Lloyd, for his part, dutifully licked that second load off my chest like a good husband.
By that point, everyone was spent and satisfied and ready for a good night’s sleep. I thanked Mr. D and kissed him good night before we all retired to our bedrooms. It was quite an evening—and Mr. D is staying with us all weekend, too!
———
“Cassie, your eggs are ready!” Kevin called from below.
Cassie shook her head as though waking from a dream. “Not as ready as Mamó’s eggs, though,” she muttered before calling out, “Thanks, I’ll be there in a minute!”
Closing the diary and picking up the photograph, she slowly descended the spiral staircase, then sank onto the couch. Squinting at the photograph more closely, she noticed a detail that hadn’t registered before: the ornate scrolled woodwork on the back of the couch. Slowly turning around, she compared it to the couch on which she was sitting. Although the woodwork was now somewhat worn, there was no mistaking it—the pattern was an exact match.
“Jiminy Crickets!” Cassie yelped. “I knew this couch had a history, but holy shit!”
Kevin, confused, indicated the plate on the kitchen counter. “Cass, your eggs are getting cold.”
Cassie composed herself. “Thanks, Kev. I just need to sit for a minute.”
“How aboot some music to take your mind off things?” Kevin asked as he crossed the room to the record player. He slid Led Zeppelin IV out of its gatefold sleeve and prepared to place it on the spindle.
“Ugh, is that the one with Stairway to Heaven on it? I have to hear that damned song every time I chaperone a dance.”
“Sure, Stairway is overplayed, but there’s some other great stuff on this record that people forget.” Kevin started counting on his fingers. “The Battle of Evermore. When the Levee Breaks. Misty Mountain—” He cut himself short as Cassie’s lip trembled and she burst into tears.
“Cass, what’s the matter?”
“Oh my god, Kevin!” she blubbered. “Harvey and Misty— Mamó— I think they— He could be my—”
“Ssh, ssh, Cass, it’s okay,” Kevin quickly sat next to her and held her in his arms.
“And they did it all on this goddamned couch!”
